Seven
by Abandon Structure
Summary: There were seven siblings, six brothers and one sister - all sharing a destiny not even they fully comprehend. A destiny that's just about to begin in the City of Angels with Mick and Beth acting as the harbingers. Rated for some language and implied sex.
1. An Invitation Not to be Refused

**A/N:** I don't really know where this came from. I was wandering through the pages of many Moonlight fics, mostly pondering the gaping plotholes from the original storylines, and this just kind of happened. The plot is very organic in the sense that I'm doing absolutely no pre-planning here. Or editing...

**Notes:** The noble bloodline Lance and Josef talk about goes as follows: Charles (the oldest), Victor, Lance, Luc, Coraline, Marcel, and Henri.

**Chapter 01 - An Invitation Not to be Refused**

"What is it?" Skye leaned lazily against the bottom of the safety railing, chin resting on the bar, one leg bent at the knee, the other dangling carelessly over the edge.

It wasn't much of a fall – maybe five or six feet – beyond easily survivable. Hell, it would take an act of God to kill her if she fell from that height – but Luc frowned up at her anyways.

"A letter," he replied, when she simply crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him in response. As always, a strange mixture of fond annoyance and frustration-tinged amusement had him shaking his head as he studied the careful script in front of him.

"What does it say?" Skye asked, shifting so she could see the writing from her perch.

"It's an invitation," Luc replied with another frown as he scanned the text. "From my brothers."

"Oh."

She was young – barely eighty-years old, but old enough to know enough of Luc's sordid past to not belittle the very real fear his brothers elicited in people.

"What for?" She asked after a moment of silence, much more subdued than playful now.

"I don't know," Luc replied, chilled to the bone by that realization.

When dealing with his brothers, you always had to be five steps ahead to be able to call it even. Anything further behind than that and you were screwed before you even entered the starting gate.

"Are we going?"

"_I'm _going," Luc replied, leaning his head back against the wall to glance up at her, mouth tight. "_You're_ staying here."

"Luc." Skye straightened form her relaxed slouch, protest dying on her lips at Luc's frigid look.

"I'm not bringing you with me, Skye. And I'll know if you try to follow me."

"They're dangerous – you'll need back-up."

"They're dangerous," Luc agreed. "But they won't kill me."

Skye moved in a blink of the eye, getting to her feet and jumping over the railing to land in a cat's crouch that barely lasted half a millisecond before she was upright and in his face, eyes flashing.

"How do you know that? Weren't you the one who told be there was no such thing and a sure thing when dealing with your brothers other than death?"

"They won't kill me," Luc replied, watching her with wary amusement. Skye was fiery and passionate and he knew that she would be angry by his amusement with the situation, but she was so cute when she was mad…

"Why?" Skye insisted, eyes flashing, letting him know that she knew he was laughing at her, but she was more curious for an answer than desirous of revenge at the unintentional mocking.

"Because I'm blood," Luc replied, leaning back against the wall and watching her from underneath half-lidded eyes. "They don't kill blood."

"So they won't kill me?" Skye asked, mind already working to try and turn this to her advantage.

"Easy there, Tiger," Luc reached out, grabbing her arm and tugging her into the grip of his arms, looking down at her with a humorless smile. "I'm still not bringing you anywhere near them."

"Come on, Luc," Skye flipped her head in an effort to get her baby-pink bangs out of her eyes as she blinked up at him, tone cajoling.

"No," Luc replied, smile lightening slightly as he reached up to brush those bangs out of her face before bending forward and placing a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose. "I'm not bringing you anywhere near them."

"But you just said they won't kill blood and I'm blood."

"Distant blood," Luc broke in, tone grim.

"Whatever – blood is blood," Skye continued on, not paying close enough attention to the subtle shifting of Luc's expression.

They was only one level of blood his brothers respected – their own. Skye had a certain degree of safety because she was a direct fledging of their noble line, but it had it's limitations. And besides…

"There are worse things they can do than kill you," Luc stated, gripped her waist lightly with his hands as he stared down at her, expression unreadable.

"Luc?" Skye questioned softly, confused as she reached up to place a hand against the side of his face. He leaned into that hand, closing his eyes and brushing a kiss against her palm before opening them and smiling down at her, pushing his heavy heart aside as he did so.

"Come on," he demanded, releasing her waist and grabbing her hand, tugging her towards the end of the alley. "Let's go out."

"We're already out," Skye replied, easily slipping into an amused tone despite the worry in her eyes as she teased him.

"You know what I mean," Luc grinned despite himself as he tugged her under his arm once more, hugging her close as she stumbled under his strength, a smile lighting up her face as she laughed at him.

_No way was he letting his brothers anywhere near her_, he thought to himself, smiling down before raising his gaze to scan their surroundings – always watching because so were they.

* * *

He was irresponsible – he didn't need his brothers to tell him that.

_Spoiled, _Coraline had always laughed, playfully roughing up his hair despite his annoyed protests to the contrary.

When he was younger that irresponsibility had results in a swath of destruction – bodies and fledglings and more bodies – until Charles had put a stop to it.

Henri had never told anybody what Charles had done to him to get him to stop, but he'd never looked at his eldest brother to same way as before.

Unlike most vampire families, theirs had the distinction of being unusually large and unusually close – partially because they had known each other in both life and death. Physically, there was only a ten year age difference between Henri – the youngest – and Charles – the oldest.

But sometimes Henri wondered about Charles…

Staring at the elegantly crafted invitation in his hands – an all too real mockery of a previous era – Henri rubbed at his mouth and fought the urge to give in to the fear.

What could Charles want with him, especially now? It had been centuries since he'd seen his brother – shortly after the last cleansing, where they had lost so many.

Charles didn't blame Henri for the cleansing or the angry mob that had arrived at _their _doorstep so many nights ago, but Henri knew the others sometimes did, even Coraline who had always believed he could do no wrong.

It was before Charles had had his heart-to-heart with Henri, but even so…

Reflection was something that some people never retained the capabilities of, but Henri had managed to pick up on it over the years. Often he reflected on the sheer amount of stupidity he'd been cursed with – how could he have not realized the dangers of his killing habits?

He'd lost a friend in that cleansing – a close friend who had been made almost the same time as him, a friend since his human childhood – and instead of learning his lesson from that loss he had let himself sink deeper into the darkness.

He would never make that mistake again.

"Problems?" Jax lounged on the plush bench seat, glass of wine carelessly placed on the table in front of him as he carefully peeled a peach for his companion, a lovely blonde who's bust size far outnumbered her IQ – the perfect type for a pet.

"No," Henri flipped the invitation over in his hand, frowning at the address on the back before flipping it back over to study the script once more.

"You look awfully serious for it to not be a problem," Jax replied, not glancing up as he carefully dipped the peach in a bowl of cream before setting it gently down on the blonde's tongue, eyes fixated on her throat as she swallowed her decadent treat.

"It'll take care of itself," Henri replied, snapping his fingers. A waiter appeared, kneeling down slightly so that Henri could easily grab the glass of wine on his tray before leaving just as silently as he'd appeared.

"If you say so," Jax murmured, sliding sinuously upright and offering the blonde a heated smile and his hand, the two of them rising in tandem, her following obediently as Jax led her towards the backroom.

He glanced back, however, catching Henri's eyes, eyebrow raising silently as he made it abundantly clear to the other man that he knew Henri was lying.

Henri raised his glass in response, silently challenging the other man to find the answer he was seeking. Jax's small smile signaled his acceptance and he disappeared around the corner with that cultured smugness he didn't wear but absolutely owned.

Henri tossed back a health swig of his wine, barely tasting the rare vintage as he brooded.

_Let him find out the truth, _he thought darkly, wineglass dangling carelessly from his fingers. Letting the truth be known would be a welcome relief from the years of constantly hiding it.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, sighing once before opening them and glancing down at the letter once more before tossing it down on the table in front of him.

He snapped his fingers and the waiter reappeared.

"Find me a brunette," he ordered tersely, glaring moodily at the letter. "1983."

"Any preference?" The waiter asked tonelessly.

"No," Henri replied, leaning forward, eyes still fixated on the letter. "Just make sure she won't be missed."

The waiter disappeared again and Henri bit his bottom lip before reaching forward and snatching the letter from the table, crumpling it in his fist before rising to his feet and heading for the back room, glass in hand.

* * *

"You're a long way from home." Victor tossed his keys onto the table next to the door, shrugging out his jacket without bothering to glance at the intruders.

"Charles has called a Quorum," Lance replied stiffly, his usually lackey's on either side. "You're attendance it required."

"When?" Victor asked, glancing up at his brother for a moment before picking up his mail from that same side table and flipping through it.

"Three days," was the clipped reply.

"Why?" Victor pressed, setting the mail aside when nothing important leapt out at him and heading for the fridge. He wasn't surprised when Lance refused to answer.

"Blood?" He questioned, glancing at his brother once more as he pulled a bag from the fridge.

"No thank you." Lance's tone was stiff – unfriendly and slightly uncomfortable. Victor smiled slightly but there was no smugness there – no attempt at asserting his superiority, just a genuine note a fond amusement.

"You?" He offered the minions, neither of whom so much as twitched.

_Impressive, _he thought to himself as he reached into his cupboard for a glass, tearing the blood packet open with his teeth before letting it's contents drain into the glass.

"Is that all?" He asked, not glancing up against as he watched the blood flow, his hunger already rising.

"Yes," Lance replied after a moment's hesitation.

It was the hesitation that had Victor glancing up, a small frown forming.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, when Lance did nothing but stare in response.

"No," Lance replied after another moment's pause, expression changing as he came to some sort of decision and turned to walk towards the door, one of his lackey's flowing effortless in front of him to open it before he arrived.

He hesitated before exiting and Victor stared at him again, patiently waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say.

"It's good to see you again, brother," was all he said instead before exiting, the door clicking shut behind him.

"And you," Victor murmured quietly, knowing full well that Lance could hear him despite the distance. "It's good to see you as well."

On the other side of the door, Lance nodded once to himself, fingering the last letter carefully as he headed for the stairs.

_One more,_ he thought silently to himself.

One more letter and their family reunion would be complete.

* * *

There was no point.

Marcel sat in the empty space, staring at the sky while the others chattered around him, their excitement an all-too-real odor on the breeze.

He found these humans amusing which was why he spent so much time around them.

Part of why.

His gaze drifted from the sky, finding _her _with little to no effort.

As usual, she paid him no mind.

Her long dark hair shifted silently in the breeze, her eyes solemn as she stared into the flames, the shadows they cast highlighting her face in stark relief.

The others were the players here – individuals who found this a new and exciting game, who thought the supernatural was a fun place to play – but that girl...

She had been touched by the darkness – maybe his kind, maybe another kind – but she wore that experience in her gaze, in the way she carried herself.

In the way she looked at him with eyes so full of knowing he wanted to laugh.

The breeze shifted, bringing him her scent and a new, more surprising odor that had him blinking in genuine surprise.

"Brother."

He wasn't startled by Lance's sudden appearance but the girl raised her gaze, eyes narrowing as she caught sight of the man behind Marcel.

"Lance," Marcel replied, eyes on the girl as she scowled, gaze dropping to him with real anger snapping in their depths as she rose to her feet, turning her head, her hair tossing with a snap to trail after her as she disappeared into the crowd of people, heading for a different fire and better company.

"Charles has called a Quorum." Lance stated without preamble, a piece of paper drifting down in front of Marcel.

He caught it before the breeze could toss it into the fire, reading it carefully.

"A family reunion," he murmured quietly, eyebrow raising. "How lovely. Should I bring the refreshments?"

His teeth flashed white as he turned to glance at his brother in amusement. Lance smirked back, eyes tight despite the shared thread of amusement.

"Unnecessary," Lance replied. "Charles has everything prepared unless…have your tastes changed at all?"

"No," Marcel replied, eyes drifting back over the people to land on the familiar dark-haired temptress. She sat at another fire, back to him, but he could see her shoulders tensing, straightening as she felt his gaze the same as any physical caress.

"They haven't changed," Marcel murmured, aware that Lance had followed the direction of his gaze with all the interest of the predator. "Not one bit."

"Three days, then," Lance murmured, watching the dark hair sway in the breeze for a moment longer before turning and disappearing as quickly as he'd arrived.

"Looking forward to it," Marcel replied, settling back into his position of watching and waiting with all the patience of a natural born killer.

* * *

She lay on her side, facing the wall, unable to move which was a horror in and of itself but coupled with her thoughts…

If her heart was beating – as slowly as it had for centuries – her terror would be suffocating by now. As it was, some leaked through, but with a frozen body, the chemicals failed to spread far.

"Soon, mistress," the cells other occupant promised, her tiny voice pleasing to the ear as she brushed her hands gently through Coraline's hair.

"Soon," she promised again and Coraline felt a single tear drift it's way down her cheek.

She'd never wanted anything more that she wanted that 'soon' to be changed to 'never'.

**A/N: **Five second review. Pretty please?


	2. To Live is to Die

**A/N: **Sorry about the long wait but my computer broke down pretty much right after I started writing this. All the chapters were temporarily lost until today. But I'm excited! Because I really really like this story! And I can't remember writing it! Because I was on pain medication for the first six chapters! But its really really good! And are you getting annoyed with the exclamation marks yet? Because I know I am!

Well, without further ado, Ladies and Germs, I present to you...the second chapter.

* * *

Luc hugged his coat tighter around him as he leaned in the doorway of the cathedral, watching the service without expression.

"Strange, isn't it?" Marcel spoke from behind him. Luc glanced silently over his shoulder at his younger brother, silently inviting him to finish his thought as the other man strode forward to stop next to him. "They pray to God when really they should pray to us. We'll live longer."

"You always were too optimistic for your own good," Victor stated, hands casually resting inside the pockets of his thousand dollar suit as he surveyed the mass with pursed lips.

"Nice suit," Luc offered by way of greeting. "Who'd you have to kill to get it tailored so well?"

"No one," Victor replied. "I can afford it."

"So what's your occupational specialty these days?" Marcel asked, giving his older brother a once over before meeting his gaze dead on, eyes dancing with laughter. "Mortician?"

"Estate lawyer," Victor replied drolly, eliciting a snort from Luc.

"How ironic," Marcel stated, chuckling softly under his breath.

"I thought so," Victor replied, the three of them lapsing into a comfortably silence as they waited for the others to show up.

They were aware of her even before she spoke.

"Charles sends his regards." Her expression was void and her words had absolutely no inflection.

_Drone, _Luc found himself thinking, shifting so he was facing the opposite direction as he studied his brothers messenger, silently giving thanks that Skye was on the other side of the world.

His family was the crème of the vampire crop – easily among the best, the oldest – but Charles…

There was barely a year separating them in terms of rebirth, but the level of power at which Charles operated gave Luc chills.

Worse, it often had him wondering…was he capable of being that powerful? Were any of them?

The likelihood of the answer being yes was why Luc avoided his brothers like the plague he was slowly beginning to realize they were.

"The meeting will be held in the sub-basement," the drone continued on, eyes not seeing any of them as she spoke the words from memory. "Refreshments are waiting for you there."

Luc's gut tightened at those words.

"Excellent," Marcel replied, teeth showing and eyes lightening to a bright shade of blue as he rubbed his hands together. "I'm famished."

Marcel led the way, with Victor following and Luc bringing up the rear, the drone walking sedately to somewhere else.

_Back to the other pod people, _Luc thought with absolutely no amusement as the three brothers disappeared through a side door.

* * *

Henri waited for his brothers in the basement, eyes drifting over them as they arrived, taking careful stock of their conditions.

Victor looked the same as always – polished and put together and perfectly cool no matter what the situation. He was never curious, just expectant and patient. Almost inhuman.

Marcel had those vicious eyes – perpetually amused – capable of so much more violence than people often believed.

Once upon a time they'd been the closest of the brothers but that was before.

The now of the matter was simple – Henri kept to himself.

They all did.

Too many years together had left all them with too much knowledge to be as close as they once were.

And yet they were all here once more, together again.

"Henri," Luc greeted him with a neutral nod while Victor simply watched and Marcel lost some of his amusement.

Henri jerked his gaze away from them, letting it wander over the familiar walls, unwilling and unable to meet Marcel's probing gaze.

Marcel knew little of what had happened between him and Charles all those years ago but there was a level of resentment there that couldn't be denied – one upon a time they'd been inseparable and in between moments, Henri had cut him from his life. And of course, the blame lay with Henri and not Charles – Marcel would never blame Charles for anything.

He'd save them – all of them.

And it galled at Henri, but they owed him. They would always owe him so they would always come when he called.

"Brothers," Lance spoke from the doorway, a bevy of blank-faced beauties of both genders entering silently behind him. "Dinner is served."

"Finally," Marcel breathed, focusing in on one of the beautiful brunettes. "I'm starving."

* * *

Luc fed without sensation – letting his food fall back graceless against the ground, his heartbeat struggling in a rapid tempo to keep up with the rapid loss of blood.

He might live, he might die. Luc wiped at his mouth with one of the fancy napkins that had been provided, eyeing the mocha-skinned man dispassionately as he did so.

"You let them live?" Marcel asked, licking his lips as he settled down in his seat, his meal long since dead.

"Sometimes," Luc replied truthfully enough, watching the man's pulse flutter one last time before ceasing. "Sometimes not."

He raised his gaze to meet Marcel's and whatever the other man saw there had him smiling slightly before turning his gaze to the front of the room, ignoring the two drones that appeared to take away the bodies.

"What's this about, anyways?" He asked into the silence. It was just the four of them again – Lance had disappeared through a side door and Charles had yet to make an appearance and Coraline…

"What it's always about," Henri answered, face fixed in a front as he crossed his arms and slouched in his seat, gaze fixed firmly forward. "Survival."

"As always," the smooth-as-whiskey voice had them on their feet in an instant, turning almost in tandem to face the man in the doorway. "You're power of observations are truly astounding, Henri."

Henri flushed slightly at the bladed statement but kept his silence as Charles glided into the room.

In the movies he'd be wearing something completely ostentatious like tights and a tunic complete with a fur-lined cape and a crown, but this was no movie.

He wore a pair of dark gray suite pants, tailored carefully, with a dressed shirt tucked into those pants, his cuffs carefully clipped, but with the two top buttons carefully undone.

His hair was carefully cut in a style that bespoke of wealth and power and his shoes – who were probably worth more than Victor's entire suit – making no noise as he entered.

It was the complete lack of sound that had Luc shifting silently backwards, realizing his action only after it was complete, but comforted immediately but the fact that he wasn't the only one who'd done so – both Henri and Marcel had as well, Henri with a flash of unease and Marcel without consciously realizing why.

Only Victor didn't seem impressed by the act.

"Charles," he greeted with a tilt of his head.

"Victor," Charles replied drolly, a faint smile at the corner of his lips. "How's business?"

"Excellent," Victor smiled, baring teeth. "I'm making a killing."

Nobody laughed at the joke.

"Brother?" Charles called and Lance appeared, caring something in his arms.

_Someone_, Luc corrected, peering carefully at the woman in his brother's arms, his eyes widening in alarm as he realized two things.

One, the body had a stake in it's heart – a most painful fate that Luc remembered suffering through and loathing every moment of it with a heartfelt terror that had his skin crawling with even the sight of it.

The second realization had him jerking his gaze up to his brothers, meeting Henri's startled gaze before switching to Marcel's suddenly pale expression. Victor didn't even glance away, the narrowing of his eyes his only visible response.

"What happened?" He asked, watching silently as Lance carefully set Coraline down on the altar at the front of the room.

It had been centuries since that altar had been used for anything but at the same time, seeing his sister lying there made Luc extremely uneasy and he wasn't the only one.

"She betrayed me," Charles replied simple, walking forward so that he was standing behind her, one hand in his pocket, the other traveling carelessly over her hair down in a sensuous line to where the stake was lodged in her chest before resting almost carelessly on it's end.

"How?" Henri asked, voice tight. Charles smiled, but his gaze remained fixated on Coraline's face. All of them could see the tears that were falling silently down her cheeks and Henri felt his heart lurch. If he could break out in a cold sweat, he'd be soaked by now.

He knew, better than any of them, what Charles was capable of. He wouldn't wish the forces of his brothers attentions on anybody, the least of whom was his only sister.

"She stole the Formula," Charles replied and Henri felt his heart give another lurch.

_Oh Coraline, _Victor thought to himself, feeling a surge of pity for her.

"Why?" Marcel asked, voice calm. He seemed almost subdued in the moment and it was so odd Henri managed to tear his gaze away from Coraline to stare at his brother.

"For Mick," Charles replied.

"Mick?" Luc exchanged confused looks with his brothers, but none of them seemed to have any idea who this 'Mick' was any more than he did.

"Her husband," Charles replied and Luc felt himself draw back, startled once more.

"She's _married?_"

"Divorced, actually," Victor answered and of course _he _would know.

"Yes," Charles agreed. "Married and divorced and yet still attached. It's tragic," but the way Charles said the words made it abundantly clear he didn't agree with them.

"Does he know…" Luc trailed off uncertainly.

"No," Lance replied from his position at the door just behind Charles. "He has no idea. But Josef does."

"Josef?" Henri remembered the vampire – he'd never been quite as bad as Marcel and Henri, but by the time the three of them had met, the other vampire had seemed to have acquired a certain level of maturity Marcel had yet to obtain and that Henri had found the hard way.

"Yes," Charles interrupted the flow of conversation, fingers tapping against the end of the stake. Each tap had the brother's wincing.

A stake through the heart was agony, any motion to jostle that stake…

It was like fire and ice and poison all at once – all you would know from that moment onwards was the memory of that pain. You may grow to function once more, but you would never forget what it felt like.

"Does he know what happened?"

_Did he have anything to do with this_? Was what Victor was actually asking.

"No," Charles replied with absolute surety. "He's reckless at moments but hardly stupid."

_Hardly suicidal, _Luc thought with bleak amusement as he recalled the smart-mouthed younger vampire.

_Well, most of the time, _he amended as he _really _recalled the smart-mouth especially.

"Is there any left?" Victor asked, a bare hint of genuine concern in his tone, one that all of them understood.

"Yes," Charles replied. "Enough but no more."

"Does it matter?" Henri broke in bitterly, watching his sister's face with angry eyes that he didn't dare show to Charles. "It won't work again."

"Maybe," Charles replied, his tapping stopping as he rested his hand against the stake.

They were silent at that, watching and waiting for his elaboration.

"She was trying to re-create it's effects," Charles murmured into the silence, surprising all of them into another moment of silence.

"Did she succeed?" Victor asked for all of them.

"No," Charles replied, raising his gaze to watch the rest of them impassively. "But she might."

There was a story there – an explanation that had them all looking at the eldest of their line with patient expectation.

"She may succeed," Charles informed them in his quiet but powerful manner. "Which is why I've called this Quorum."

He abandoned Coraline, stepping from behind the alter to walk down the steps until he was standing in front of the four of them, Lance taking up his position at the altar, watching them with those odd eyes of his. One big, one small.

It was a birth defect that had marked him as odd during life and made him even stranger in death.

It held no mystical powers, that much Luc was certain of, but it was unnerving and sometimes unnerving was a good thing to have on your side.

"We must vote on whether or not to let her continue her work," Charles informed them without preamble. "Should she succeed, it would mean safety for all of us. Should she fail, it means the ending of our race."

"Explain," Victor snapped immediately. Henri jerked back at the briskness of his brother's tone – especially when addressing Charles – but Charles didn't seem the least put off by it.

"She requires the original Formula for her research," Charles stated. "If she depletes our supply, when the time comes for another Cleansing we will have no defense left."

"It won't work for us anyways," Marcel stated, arms crossed as he let his gaze drift past Charles to Coraline.

"This isn't about us," Charles replied, a real note of annoyance creeping into his tone and causing Henri to inch closer to his other brother. Charles watched the movement, lips quirking upright, ire dissipating slightly at the defensive move before refocusing on Marcel.

He made sure the catch his younger brothers gaze and hold it as he spoke in order to emphasize the seriousness of the situation – the complete lack of humor Charles had concerning this subject.

"We are a dying race," Charles stated and Marcel's amusement at the pun was barely a drop in the ocean because of the seriousness of Charles tone and the honesty with which he spoke. "Each day as humans advance it becomes harder and harder to hide who we are – what we are. Our numbers are not as they once were."

"So we raise them," Marcel interrupted somewhat belligerently, but the way he balanced on the balls of his feet and held his body made it abundantly clear he _knew_ the foolishness of that decision should it be made.

"We cannot," Charles replied, the slightest of harsh inflection on the words as he hardened his gaze. Marcel shrank back then but Charles didn't lessen his expression.

"When another Cleansing occurs – and it will occur for it always has – the humans will wipe us out unless we can preserve ourselves and the only matter of defense we have at our disposal is the Formula."

"Who would we give it to?" Victor asked, sidetracking the conversation with a genuine level of interest.

"The worthy," Charles replied, something about the way held himself making it clear that he already had several candidates in mind.

"If she does get it to work?" Luc interrupted, genuinely curious. He remembered his brief foray back into humanity – a bittersweet affair if there ever was one – but it still made him wistful.

"If she does get it to work," Charles turned, fixing Coraline in her gaze. "Than she will have proved herself truly invaluable now, wouldn't she?"

There was a speculation there that made Henri uneasy.

"How will we know?" He asked to break the silence and tear Charles gaze away from his sister. He swallowed compulsively. "If it works, how will we know?"

"She will use the newly turned," Charles replied, expression mildly annoyed not at the interruption but because Henri had demanded and explanation of something even the others viewed as obvious.

"On us," Henri elaborated, his voice quiet, expression solemn.

"We'll see her progress on the fledglings first," Charles stated, neatly sidestepping Henri's question. "And then we'll see."

Luc didn't like the hanging question but he knew better than to pursue an answer so he focused, instead, on the task at hand.

"So we vote then," he stated. "On whether or not to let her use the formula."

"Second," Charles stated, walking up the steps once more, fingers trailing the altar until he was standing next to Lance, looking up to fix the rest of them with his steady gaze. "But first we decide whether she lives or dies."


	3. A Burn, A Brand

He could smell her terror.

He was hardly a saint and most assuredly a predator, but she was blood and blood should never be that afraid.

"Let her live," Marcel insisted, shifting uncomfortably. This emotion – disquieting – was the closest he had come to being human in decades and he did not like it – wanted it to go away.

"Why?" Charles asked, fingers fiddling once more with the stake. "She betrayed me – she betrayed all of us. Why should she go unpunished?"

"You have her staked," Henri replied, something in his voice causing Marcel to jerk his gaze towards his brother, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Isn't that punishment enough?"

The anguish in Henri's tone had Luc surprised, but he hid it well, watching instead Marcel's reaction which was truly interesting.

His younger brother watched Henri with narrow eyes for a long moment, his gaze traveling to Charles before narrowing even further, thoughts racing too fast across his face for Luc to really follow, but the suspicion came through loud and clear.

_He hadn't…_

Marcel let the thought trail off, selfishly wanting to discontinue the thought because to follow it would change his life irrevocably and he did not want his life to change – not even a little bit.

"Not nearly," Charles replied and there was a warning then that had the hair standing up the back of Luc's neck and had Henri swallowing compulsively.

"We can't afford to be human in these matters," Charles stated, dropping his gaze back to Coraline's face. "She put the entirety of our race at risk – she must be punished."

"But not killed," Victor stated and Luc found himself breathing a completely silent and unexpressed sigh of relief. The second eldest, Victor was the most similar to Charles in terms of raw power and as such Charles held a certain level of respect for his opinion, enough so that he rarely went against him.

"Why not?" There was no petulance, only a genuine level of curiosity, as if Charles genuinely wondered why the rest of them were loath to kill their only sister.

"She's blood," Victor replied bluntly and sincerely. "We cannot kill her."

Charles was silent and for a long moment Henri was uncertain as to whether or not he was even listening to what Victor was saying.

"Agreed," was what he finally said and Marcel didn't bother to hide his sigh of relief.

"But she must be punished."

"Agreed," Victor replied. "How?"

"Her lover," Lance immediately supplied, lips curling up in distaste. "We should kill him in front of her."

"No," Charles replied so quickly that Lance actually blinked in surprise. "He lives."

Luc wondered why Charles was so dismissive of the idea, but wisely didn't question it.

"Keep her staked, then," Victor suggested in a dispassionate tone, the three brothers on either side of him sharing collective looks of horror.

"We need her working," Charles replied bluntly.

"Then how?" Luc asked, watching Coraline's face, the faint scent of her terror tickling at his nose. "How do we punish her if we can't hurt her?"

"I didn't say we couldn't hurt her," Charles replied, his fingers tracing down from the stake, over Coraline's chest to rest on her shoulder, to rest where the mark lay.

It had been a game amongst the six of them, then – to see who could lay with the most powerful. Charles had allowed it because it was indeed immensely amusing to watch, but there had been limitations – a small list of whom they had been forbidden to touch.

They didn't question why – the five of them – but Coraline had always been pushing the limits, always trying to see how far she could get.

He'd been a duke – young and upcoming – and she had been too hard on him, draining him in a loss of control. She had foolishly believed that Charles would let her go – he had had a fondness for her, one they had all shared.

She had been wrong.

Her punishment had been befitting of the crime – for twenty-five years, one for each year of the Duke's life – she had been a whore.

She wore the brand on her shoulder – it would never fade, would never go away no matter what magic – mortal or otherwise – she attempted; Charles had made sure of that much.

She'd been a child then – the youngest amongst them in terms of vampirism. They had let her grow the oldest, let her mature the longest – spoiled her as a human and later as a vampire.

Her immortality had been a source of eternal amusement until that moment and then it was simply a mistake to be endured. She had lost some of her enjoyment, lost some of her mind, and become something none of them could stand to be around.

Luc had left the court first, but he knew that Coraline had been quick to follow.

"Again?" He heard himself say, voice hoarse as he stared at her face. "You would have her endure that again?"

"If she had learned her lesson the first time," Charles stated impassively, "there would be no 'again'."

"It's better than killing her," Henri stated into the silence, surprising Luc. "I agree."

"As do I," Victor stated.

"I as well," Marcel stated, somewhat begrudgingly, crossing his arms and shifting in place once more.

"Lance?" Charles prompted and the other man paused for a moment before giving a brief nod.

"Agreed."

"Luc?" Luc's jaw tightened as he fought the urge to snarl, but it was only a moment's hesitation – shorter than Lance's – before he was nodding.

"Agreed. Where shall it be?"

"The heart," Charles replied. "As a reminder of where her loyalty should have been."

Lance prepared her – ripping her shirt down the middle and spreading it wide enough to bare the expanse of skin but not enough to bare anything unnecessarily.

"Isabella?" Charles called.

The four brothers stood in a line, a collective shudder working through them as the little girl skipped cheerfully out from the shadows.

She was a doll given human form – perfect curls, perfect doll-like face with wide eyes and dimples when she smiled – but that was the extent of her innocence.

She was old – none of them were truly certain as she how old – and powerful but with a complete lack of direction.

She had been a child when she turned and child she remained. Even Victor found her unnerving and he was, perhaps, the least flappable among them aside from Charles himself.

The questioned, in quiet voices, as to whether or not Isabella was even aware of what she was, but the question was never spoken aloud.

She was – to Charles – practically a daughter.

"Here you go," Isabella offered two things to Charles – a brand and a powder. All of them eyed that powder carefully, including Charles.

"Thank you, Angel," Charles murmured, flashing her a brief smile. "You may go."

"Yes, sir," Isabella dropped into a curtsey, flashing a toothy grin before turning and skipping back through the door, humming tunelessly as she did so.

Luc breathed an unconscious sigh of relief at the little girls exit, but his tension didn't dissipate in the least as he watched the powder with all the caution of cornered prey.

The powder was almost as bad as the brand – it dug into your skin and latched itself there.

To human's it was a poison that would kill. To vampire's it was one of those fates – like the stake – that often made them long for death.

Coraline's branded shoulder would have been a constant source of pain and to brand her again…

"Lance," Charles spoke smoothly as he set the powder down, carefully resting the end of the brand in the bowl before looking down at the stake going through Coraline's heart. "Hold her."

Lance moved to obey, bracing her shoulders against the stone.

"Henri."

Luc was surprised at Charles decision of a second assistant and Marcel shifted unhappily, but Henri walked forward without expression to take his position at his sister's feet while Charles slowly, purposefully, undid his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves.

Several moments of silence passed, the six of them watching that stake with silent ceremony until Charles pushed up the second perfectly rolled sleeve and settled his hand against the stake, gripping it carefully.

"And so it begins," he murmured quietly, his grip tightening before he gave one harsh yank.

* * *

_It burned._

Oh _God_, it burned.

She didn't need to breath – not really – but she did anyway, the harsh gasps echoing in the silence.

"Do you understand what you did wrong?" Charles voice was quiet but he didn't need to speak above a whisper for her to be able to hear him.

"Yes," she gasped out, back arching, a cry of agony cutting itself off in the throat, coming out a strangled shriek.

"Good," Charles stated and she felt cloth rubbing against her sensitive skin, another cry ripping from her throat as the button to her shift were carefully done up over the brand.

It was seared into her soul now.

The mark was small against the valley between her breasts – an odd patterned image that was their family crest and always had been. To a human it would appear a part of history. To a vampire it bespoke of a destiny greater than could be imagined – a bloodline so ancient the members weren't even sure where it began.

She would carry it with her now until the end of days, perfectly preserved in a black outline against her skin – on top of her heart.

"You will be returned from whence you came," Charles stated, rolling his sleeves back down, half facing her, half facing the door.

"Why?" Lance interrupted as Coraline did nothing but gasp, her brain barely able to follow the words let alone the conversation. "Shouldn't we keep her close?"

"I won't have her here," Charles replied, fixing Lance with a cool gaze. "She is not welcome in our home."

Lance pulled back, giving a brief nod as he glanced down at her, lips pressed tightly together in displeasure and something else that no one could put a name to.

"Shall I return her, then?" Lance asked instead, voice bland but expression making it clear he did not relish the thought of carrying out that duty.

"No," Charles replied. "I have need of your services elsewhere."

Lance tilted his head forward in acquiescence while the other four exchanged glances.

"Who would you have take her then?" Victor asked.

"Not you," Charles replied. "I understand you have a career to worry about."

"It will hold," Victor replied evenly. "People die every day."

Charles lips tilted slightly at the grim humor.

"Regardless," he stated, straightening the second cufflink carefully before brushing a speck of dust off his sleeve and turning to face the rest of them fully. "There are others among us who are less…beholden."

Henri said nothing, just tensed, while Marcel grinned slightly and Luc maintained a blank face.

"Jean-Luc would take her," he stated. "And Henri will watch her."

"Los Angeles is not my city," Henri replied carefully.

"True," Charles stated, actually pausing for a moment as he cocked his head to the side, his gaze drifting off to nowhere. The room seemed to disappear in his eyes and he barely even noticed Coraline as she rolled onto her side, curling up a ball, bloody tears falling silently down her face as she sobbed in quiet agony.

"Jean-Luc, then, will be her keeper." Luc's jaw tightened.

"Los Angeles is not mine, either."

"You have no city," Charles snapped back, growing impatient with the length of time it was taking to come to a decision. "You will have to do."

"You would have me take over? After what has been said concerning the necessity of maintaining a low state of presence?"

"Hardly," Charles replied. "Josef will maintain control of Los Angeles – you will merely maintain control of Coraline."

"Why not let Josef oversee her, then?" Luc asked, uncertain as to why he was being so argumentative – so stupid – and feeling a genuine amount of alarm for the fact.

"Josef is her friend," Charles replied. "I don't trust him with this task."

"I am her brother," Luc shot back, his anger coming through clearly. "You would entrust it to me?"

"You will not betray me," Charles replied, fixing him with that far off stare – it felt like the older vampire was peering into the very depths of his soul – a sensation he likened to a rape of the mind and he jerked his gaze elsewhere to avoid the sheer awareness of it.

"You understand the consequences of failure," Charles continued on and it wasn't even a threat – he didn't need to threaten them for them to understand the enormity of those consequences.

Luc said nothing, stepping forward instead until he was standing at Coraline's head.

He brushed her hair from her face, wiping away the clammy moisture that had been formed from Coraline's pain.

"Shall I take her now, then?" He questioned, raising his furious gaze to meet Charles and not caring of the stupidity of the action.

"By all means," Charles replied, lips tilting upwards once more as he made a sweeping motion with his hand, inviting them to leave.

Luc gathered Coraline in his arms, hating how fragile she felt, and hating even more the way she clung to him like a lifeline in a hurricane.

He walked steadily to the door, awareness of the others slowly following trailing like an afterthought.

"Brothers," Charles spoke, drawing the four of them up short as they turned to face him one last time.

Luc was furious, Marcel looked uncomfortably thoughtful, and Henri just looked impatient to be gone while Victor was simply waiting.

"It was nice to meet you once more," he stated, smiling slightly, the genuine warmth of that smile sending shivers down Luc's spine. "I hope we shall meet again soon under better circumstances."

"As do we," Victor answered with a respectful nod before turning to be the first to walk out of the room, the others following as quickly as they could.


	4. Lifes Progressions

"Hey." Skye answered the phone with a smile – Luc didn't have to be next to her to be able to see it. "Where are you?"

"London," Luc replied, sitting in the chair the luxury suite he and Coraline were currently occupying, watching his sister sleep.

The AC was cranked all the way and he had ice piled around her, keeping her cool, but still she shivered.

Ice to the dead was like a warm water bottle to the living – comforting – but Coraline wouldn't stop shaking.

It would days before she would be recovered enough to move – a fact Luc had discovered shortly after taking the Chunnel to London.

They'd garnered several strange and dirty looks due to Coraline's condition – obvious strung out and in pain – and as such Luc had wisely decided trying to get her through airport security was a bad idea.

Charles had private jets they could use but Luc hadn't even entertained the option of calling.

He had his brothers numbers now – all of them – thanks in part of one of Charles' drones whom he apparently employed as a personal assistant of sorts. She'd diligently programmed all of their numbers into a phone for each of them – Coraline included – handing them out before stepping back silently, a clear indication for them to leave.

"London?" Skye's voice was adorably confused and he felt a rush of sudden affection that almost made his chest physically ache. "But I thought you were in Paris…"

"I was," Luc replied, settling himself deeper into his seat. "But I'm on my way home now."

"How did it go?" Luc hesitated and he could practically feel Skye's unease on the other end.

"Luc?" She prompted after a moments silence.

"Well enough," he stated finally. "But…"

"Are you okay?" Skye's concern had him smiling.

"I'm fine – no need to worry. I just have to do something for my brother."

"What kind of something?"

"Babysitting," Luc replied, watching Coraline impassively. "For a while."

"How long is a while?" Skye prompted after a moment of silence to process things. "A week? A month? A year?"

Years weren't quite as long for vampires as humans, but Skye and him had never been separated for more than two weeks since he'd changed her and he could practically feel her anxiety.

"I don't know," he replied, just as frustrated by this lack of knowing as he imagined she would be.

"Where are you going, then?" Skye asked. Here Luc hesitated.

He knew Charles had sent somebody else to watch them – he could feel the other vampire like a phantom limb.

It was impossible that Charles wasn't aware of Skye – Charles was their originator, he had changed all of the siblings. He had a direct connection to each of them he felt the connection each of the held to those they made.

It was questionable, however, as to whether or not Charles knew the extent of the connection Luc shared with the younger female.

It was a risk he was unwilling to take.

"Away," was his evasive answer. "I can't tell you where."

"Why?" Skye demanded, the sharpest edge of anger coloring her words.

"It's not safe for you," Luc replied, frowning as Coraline shifted – a purposeful movement instead of an involuntary one – letting him know she was about to regain consciousness.

"I have to go," he stated before Skye could instigate an argument concerning the value of his safety of her own. "I'll call you later."

He hung up without a good-bye, focusing on Coraline as his sister opened her eyes and peered blearily out at him.

"You love her," she stated, her words clear despite her obvious level of pain.

"Yes," Luc stated seeing no reason to try and dissuade her.

"You're trying to keep her safe," Coraline continued on, a wry smile decorating the corners of her lips as her eyelids fluttered before drifting shut once more.

"We're never safe," Luc heard her murmur right before she lost consciousness once more.

* * *

"How was the trip?" Jax asked, leaning against the door of _V_, the club owned and operated by Henri.

The name was a play on what they were, the building itself a prime meeting ground for the ones like them and the perfect base from which Henri operated his city.

"Wet," Henri replied, hands in pockets as he sauntered carelessly up the steps, flashing his second a brief smile. "And unpleasant."

"Family reunions are seldom pleasant things," Jax replied, eyes carefully tracking Henri's expression at that little tidbit of information.

Henri said nothing, merely shaking his head as he brushed past the other male.

Jaxon was from another line – a line almost as old as Henri's – and as such was privy to information channels closed to the average vampire. It didn't surprise Henri in the least that the other man had been curious enough to go digging.

"Careful," he warned, walking down the hall well aware of Jax making his way behind him. "Curiosity killed the cat."

"I'm a lot harder to kill than a cat," Jax replied, voice full of a wry humor that had Henri's jaw clenching as he paused outside of his office, turning his head to level the full force of that expression at Jax.

"Be careful where you dig," he warned, his voice soft. "Sometimes the skeletons are more alive than you'd imagined. And sometimes they do worse than bite."

Henri's cryptic warning had Jax drawing up short and Henri took advantage of the lapse to slip soundlessly into his office, shutting and locking the door behind him before collapsing onto the couch in his office, eyes fixing sightlessly into the distance.

If Coraline could get the formula to work again…

The possibilities of what may be had his throat drying, his heart almost racing – a slow jog compared to a human's but a marathon for a vampire.

And then there was the fear of what would come of it and the knowledge that the possibilities of what Charles would do with it were nearly endless, each one a thousand times more terrifying than the last.

Henri closed his eyes, his head tilting back til his chin almost pointed to the ceiling.

_We're damned,_ he found himself thinking bleakly.

_Either way, we are the damned._

_

* * *

_

Victor had his routine – keys on table, go through mail, get a drink, and set to work with a brief break for a nap when the sun started to rise.

The sun was already up by the time he arrived at his penthouse apartment but he barely paid it any mind. He tossed his keys out of habit but he walked past two days worth of mail without sparing it a second glance.

Walking silently into his bedroom, he shucked his suit jacket, tossing it onto the bed, stripping down to his skin, methodically tossing everything on top of the jacket before proceeding into the bathroom to wipe of the scent of humanity that had practically seeped into his pores.

_Humans, _Victor thought to himself as he ducked under the water, his eyes closed as he let his thoughts wander in bemusement.

"Can't live with them, can't live without them."

He snorted then, shaking his head and sending water droplets everywhere as he turned so his back was to the spray.

He didn't care one way or the other; someday this world would end – this was certainty. He didn't know if he'd be there to see it nor did he particular care.

_If the world won't last forever_, he'd always thought, _then why should I expect to?_

So he lived in his shadow world – neither living nor dead – not running from death but not seeking it's embrace either.

He liked the calm but now, with a faint tang of excitement still lingering from the Quorum, he found himself rethinking his previous ideas.

It was most assuredly a thing to be contemplated.

* * *

Marcel tossed his jacket and keys onto the couch as he sunk down into his favorite chair, scowling at the windowed wall. The sun was just starting to rise – not nearly enough of it to cause him a decent amount of pain – so he waited.

He didn't like the turn his world had taken.

When the first Cleansing had come and Charles had told them about their duty, he'd embraced it like he embraced most things – as a marvelous joke to be played upon the world.

But they'd failed and they'd failed again when they'd realized the results of the Formula could not be replicated a second time.

He'd thought then, perhaps, that Charles would let it go – that he would forget about their 'glorious' destiny and be more like the brother Marcel could remember in life.

He should have known it was a dream. Charles had never been the same from the moment he'd been turned. Marcel had always been wild – Henri as well – but Charles…

He'd been human once – they all had been – but there were moments when Charles was so alien Marcel couldn't even fathom his brothers humanity despite having grown up with it.

They were being offered a second chance now – a new beginning to an old story – and Marcel was not particularly interested.

_Let the others turn, _he thought moodily as the first rays of sun smoothed their way up his legs.

He'd take the pain as it was.

Like most things he'd found, pain was something that had only grown sweeter with death.

Mick lay in bed, Beth warm and breathing next to him, and fought the urge to shiver and the sheer perfection of the moment.

If there was one thing he'd learned since dying that first time it was that good things came with a price.

If there was one thing he'd learned since that second death, it was this: there were some things in this world that were worth any price.

* * *

Beth shifted in her sleep, mumbling something under her breath, and Mick smiled down at her, feeling warmth radiating from his insides out at the sight of her – golden hair, blues eyes, peaches and cream complexion – so wonderfully alive, so gloriously _Beth. _

_My Beth, _he thought possessively, chasing away the nagging thought that promised and end to this happiness.

He rolled, instead, onto his side, gathering her closer and pulling her to him, wrapping her tightly in one arm as he reached with the other to pull the blankets up and over them so she wouldn't get cold.

In her sleep, Beth let out another sigh, content with her place in the world as she cuddled closer to him.

_This, _Mick decided, closing his eyes and enjoying the moment, _is living._

For a dead guy, he decided, he wasn't doing half bad.

**A/N: **Here's the basic skinny - I'm a college students whose professors are completely unsympathetic to my creative plites. Ditto for my boss. I don't have a lot of time to make with the writing but I do my best and as such ask only for your patience. I have eight chapters written plus three more plotted. I update on Tuesdays and expect updates for the next two months, at least, but I'm probably going to have a hiatus in mid-December due to work issues. I know with a lot of my other stories I have random spurts of complete no-updates so I just wanted to assure you guys I have the goods. I'm trying this new thing called personal resposibility and let me tell you...it blows, but it works.

Damnit.


	5. Old Enemies

She was upright, able to move without jerking with pain or looking a drug junkie.

"LA," she repeated duly, staring at the floor as she struggled to process this statement.

"You love him," Luc replied, leaning against the wall and watching her. She said nothing in response.

She sat their quietly for a moment longer before letting her breath out in a sigh and raising her tired gaze to meet his. "So when do we leave?"

* * *

Josef was in New York watching Sarah sleep when he got a phone call he'd hoped to never get.

"They're back."

"I'm on my way. Watch them."

He gave Sarah a kiss, brushing it lightly across her brow, whispering – as always – how much he loved her, how he wished she would wake up so they could start their life together, and how he would wait for her until then.

Leaving, he drove straight to the airport and didn't stop moving until he reached Los Angeles.

* * *

"I don't like the way he looks at you." Beth spoke with complete sincerity, scowling as she watched ADA Talbot watch her, or rather, watch Mick.

"He can't hurt me," Mick replied, lips twisted slightly in amusement as he ran his hands down her arms, touching her just because he could.

"Don't say that," Beth replied sharply, fixing him with very real panic in her eyes. "Josh said that and…"

"I'm sorry," Mick apologized sincerely, his happiness dissipating slightly at the reminder of the death of Beth's previous lover. "I didn't mean…"

"You're not immortal," Beth murmured, leaning forward so her head was buried in his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around him as she spoke. "You may be hard to kill, but you can still die. And people don't come back from that."

"I'll be careful," Mick promised, reaching up to cup the back of her head carefully, closing his eyes and inhaling her familiar scent, letting his breath out in a content sigh, echoing her from the night before.

"Promise?" She asked, pulling back to peer up at him with wide eyes.

"Pinkie swear," he promised, holding his pinkie up in the air and smiling when she laughed at him.

"You are such a dork," she stated, leaning forward onto her toes to raise herself up so she could kiss his lips.

"You love it," Mick teased back, grinning into their kiss.

"I never said it was a bad thing," Beth replied coyly, smiling saucily before turning and sauntering into the building.

Mick watched her go with a faint smile before letting the smile disappear, turning his head to catch sight of ADA Talbot watching him once more.

The watching was alarming in and of itself, but there was a weight to the younger man's stare that had Mick's gut clenching uncomfortably.

_He knows something, _Mick found himself thinking for the umpteenth time since he'd met the man.

The question – burning and otherwise – remained, however, as to _what _Talbot knew.

_Too much, _Mick decided with a sinking feeling in his chest.

He was going to have to talk to Josef and soon.

* * *

"Nice," Luc ducked his head into his bedroom and fought back a grimace.

"Don't lie," Coraline called from the living room where she was resting on the couch. "It's hideous."

"Not exactly the words I was going to use but close enough," Luc agreed, emerging from the back room and settling himself down next to her.

"How you holding up?" he asked, slipping away from the formal speech that always came out when they gathered and back into the more familiar and comforting slang of the rest of the world.

"Better," Coraline replied, resisting the urge to reach up and rub the expanse of skin over her heart. "I'll live at any rate."

"God, not you, too." Coraline snorted, actually managing a giggle at Luc's so obvious disgust with the many horrible puns that were inevitably made concerning their status as the no-longer-among-the-living.

"Sorry," she apologized insincerely and he accepted it with just about the same level a grace.

"So," he stated after a moment's silence. "Where's your lab?"

"Downtown," she replied. "But it needs to be moved."

"Why?" Luc asked. Moving things was a lot of work and took a lot of time and the sooner he got her set up, the sooner she could get to work and the quicker he could get back to Skye.

"He knows where the old lab is."

"Oh." Luc was quiet for a moment, his respect for his sister's privacy warring with his desire to know more about her life since they're parting of ways all those years ago.

"What's his name?" he finally settled on asking.

"Mick," Coraline replied without hesitation. "Mick St. John. What's her name?"

"Skye," Luc replied after the briefest of hesitations. "Skye Truman."

"Did you turn her?"

"Yes. Did you turn him?"

"Yes," Coraline replied with a grimace.

"How well did that go over?" Luc asked, catching sight of the grimace.

"He hates me," she replied. "And I don't blame him. He never wanted this."

"You didn't get permission."

"No." Luc was quiet then, mulling it all over.

Unlike most vampires, they had a very real system of hierarchy – a very clear set of rules that were always, _always_, adhered to.

That Coraline would turn someone without asking permission was a blatant violation of those rules and a throwback to a time before when Luc would have said without hesitation she had learned her lesson.

"Is he dead?" Luc asked after a moment, cursing his bluntness the second the words left his mouth.

"No," Coraline replied before frowning. "I don't think."

"You don't know?" Luc arched an eyebrow in disbelief.

"The last time I saw him was right before Lance staked me," Coraline replied bluntly, her words causing Luc to wince in reaction. "And he was human and in pretty bad shape."

"If he died he'd just come back again," Luc reminded her gently.

"Hey," he straightened upright, surprised to see a tear making it's way down her cheek once more. "Is it the pain?"

"He wanted to be human again so bad," Coraline murmured. "And I thought if I could be human he'd come back to me but he didn't. He went to her."

Luc felt his heart sink again.

"Her?"

Coraline sighed.

"Nobody," she answered his question, shaking her head and getting carefully to her feet.

"There's another bedroom at the end of the hall," she called over her shoulder. "It's done in red – you'll probably like it better."

He did like red but in that moment the color he most wanted to see was pink.

* * *

"Where are they?" Josef demanded to know the second the plain touched down.

"Coraline's old place," one of his underlings replied. "We have people watching the place and – "

"Pull them back," Josef ordered tersely as he paced towards an SUV.

"Sir?"

"Are you deaf?" Josef demanded, whirling on the other man, teeth bared, eyes almost glowing. The other man recoiled but Josef barely paid attention. "I said pull them back!"

"Yes, Sir!"

Josef didn't wait around to see if the order was carried out. With a squealing of tires, he shifted the SUV into drive and took off.

* * *

"Have a good day?" Jax had never quite lost interest in living since his death. As such, Henri often wondered if the other man had a second death wish.

"Behave," Tara, a tall African beauty, warned Jax, her dulcet tones deceptive in their warmth.

She was one of Henri's first lines of defense – a former voodoo queen who was not only one of the undead, but had the capabilities of controlling her fellow vampires with a few simple spells.

Most other City Leaders would have had her killed the second she wandered into their territory, but Henri had found her in the sewers of New Orleans almost a century and a half ago.

Permission had been obtained after the fact and before the knowledge of her background came to light but even so Charles had let it be, viewing the young woman as a valuable asset should any trouble arise.

She was one of two fledglings Henri had created since his separation from the Court and she was, by far, one of Henri's favorites.

Jax liked her very much as well so he obediently smiled, letting his fun slip away as he changed to another topic.

"Vivica's been calling again." Henri fought a grimace. "Shall I tell her you've returned?"

"If you must," Henri replied and Tara chuckled at his pained tone.

"Come now, Henri," she murmured into his clavicle, dragging her teeth up the side of his neck before nibbling on his ear. "She's not that bad."

"To you, maybe," Henri gave Tara a look of fond bemusement, his toes curling pleasantly as her throaty chuckle echoed in his ear.

"I like her," Jax murmured, trailing his lips over Tara's shoulder and smiling wickedly at Henri as he did so.

"You would," Henri replied, rolling onto his side and ignoring Tara's murmured protests as he lifted her leg up and around his waist, her protests dying on her lips and gently pushed his way inside.

"Maybe," Jax spoke several hours later, breathing heavily as he laying panting on one side of Henri and Tara who were still intertwined, "Vivica just needs to get laid."

"Are you volunteering?" Henri asked around lazy kisses to Tara's closed eyelids.

Jax laughed at that.

"Not hardly, my friend," he murmured, rolling onto his side to spoon Tara, giving the side of her neck and brief kiss before closing his eyes. "I wouldn't touch that woman even if you paid me to."

Henri snorted but Jax had already drifted off to join Tara in sleep.

He was restless still despite the pleasant activities they had been so recently engaged in and he didn't even bother trying to join them.

Getting up, he fixed himself a drink – blood and whiskey – before settling himself in one of the rooms many chairs, sipping his drink and watching his lovers as they slept on.

The dead, he was pleased to note, did dream.

_What separates us from the living, then_? He found himself wondering, his gaze wandering towards the window, the night shining brightly back at him.

The day belonged to the humans but the night was theirs to rule – that was the way of things.

It was preferable, too.

Ugly truths were so much easier to hide in the night and Henri certainly had his share of those.


	6. Befores and Afters

He didn't know what to do.

Benjamin Anthony Talbot had always had a plan from the moment he'd realized he'd wanted to be a lawyer and to not have one now was a truly unnerving realization.

But really, how did one plan for something like this?

He'd never imagined that someday he'd be receiving a list of names from somebody not because they were criminals but because they were vampires.

Up until two weeks ago he hadn't even believed in vampires.

But there had been photos and he'd seen – with his own two eyes – the things that they could do.

The realization that vampires were real was difficult in and of itself, but there was an even bigger realization that had yet to make itself known to him, namely: what was he supposed to do about it?

* * *

Coraline stared at the painting.

She'd bought it with Mick in mind, purposely placing it in the main bedroom because that was where she'd always imagined they would spend most of their time.

It had always been their main preoccupation _before._

_Too many befores, _Coraline decided, closing her eyes and rolling so her back was facing the painting. _Too many afters._

For the first time since she'd met him, she was finally exhausted with the idea of Mick St. John.

He was like a drug habit she'd convince herself to quit and just when she was almost free she'd go back. But he'd never made it easy. For thirty-three years they'd been destroying themselves until one day she'd tried to make them into the perfect family.

Charles had Isabella, Coraline had wanted a Beth and Mick had been horrified.

She'd never explained her sordid history to him – even now he probably had no idea what sort of bloodline he'd entered into – but in retrospect even if she had explained Isabella she doubted Mick would have understood.

After that, she'd been the only one killing herself from the inside out. Mick had wised up – moved on.

It was time for her to do the same.

"We have company," Luc spoke from the doorway and she opened her eyes to look at him.

"Anybody we know?" She asked, smiling without humor.

"Josef," Luc replied tightly. "And he wants to talk to you."

"Is he alone?" The question came out sharp but it was important – Coraline had just accepted the fact that she had no future with Mick. She wasn't sure, however, how much her resolve would stick if she was confronted with temptation so soon.

"Yes."

* * *

Josef recognized Luc and fought back the urge to sigh with relief. Of all of Coraline's brothers, he preferred Luc if for the simple fact that the other man wasn't batshit insane like the rest of their brood.

"Hello, Josef."

Coraline's appearance was a shock. She looked wane and pale – weak, almost drained of life.

"What the hell happened to you?" Josef asked, eyes doing a quick scan before focusing on her face. "You look like death walking."

"I feel like it," Coraline replied with a tight smile, walking carefully over to one of the seats and setting herself down. "Please."

Josef sat in the chair she'd indicated with her hand, his gaze never leaving Coraline until Luc appeared in his line of sight.

"Drink?" He offered, holding the glass out with a carefully neutral expression.

"Thanks," Josef replied, frowning up at the man. Luc stared impassively back before walking to the side and setting himself down on the remaining empty couch.

"You've obviously come here for a reason," Coraline stated without preamble, "so you might as way say what you have to say."

"Stay away from Mick," Josef replied, voice calm and deadly sure in its intent. Luc bristled, shifting restless, his gaze fixed on Josef in obvious warning.

"Gladly," Coraline stated, interrupted this impromptu starefest as Josef jerked around in surprise.

"Wait – what? Tell me I heard you correctly."

"You heard me correctly," Coraline dutifully repeated, leaning back, expression pure exhaustion. "I'm done with Mick St. John, I've decided. We're no good for each other."

"Well…good for you, then," Josef was confused and he wasn't bothering to hide it. Shaking his head, he leaned back, marveling at how easily this had all gone before refocusing on Coraline, an insistent question pressing at the back of his mind.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"It's a long story," Coraline replied, smiling at the bluntness of his question.

"I cut my vacation short to come here and threaten you," Josef stated bluntly. "The least you can do is tell me a story."

* * *

"Are you here to kill me?"

Breaking into a woman's apartment was an entertaining pastime but seldom a good idea when the woman was awake and conscious of the experience.

"Would you scream if I was?" Marcel asked, genuinely curious.

"Would it do me any good?" Morgan replied, watching him with those smoky gray eyes, a bowl of popcorn in her lap and old black and white movie playing on the screen in front of her.

"I remember her," Marcel stated instead, distracted by the actress on the screen. "She was a lousy lay."

Morgan snorted in reply, turning her attention away from him and back to the movie.

"That's it?" Marcel asked, blinking in disbelief at her complete lack of appropriate reaction.

"A homicidal maniac breaks into my apartment," Morgan intoned, eyes fixated on the screen. "What should I do?"

"Scream, cry, beg for your life," Marcel listed off, walking over to settle himself on the couch and frown down at her.

"Why are you sitting on the floor?"

"It's more comfortable," was her reply. "Popcorn?"

"I'm here to kill you," Marcel informed her politely. "Don't offer me food."

"I'm just trying to be polite." Morgan went back to eating her popcorn and watching her movie and Marcel just sat there watching her until, with a start, he came back to himself to realize it was eight o'clock in the morning and Morgan had fallen asleep on the floor while the television blared on in the background.

"Well," he murmured to himself, getting to his feet and eyeing the sleeping girl for a moment before shaking his head.

He'd come here hoping for something – the thrill of a kill maybe, maybe just some good old fashioned hard sex – but this…

"Lock the door behind you," Morgan called from the floor, voice full of sleep. "Don't want any bad guys to break in while I'm sleeping."

She was smiling, Marcel could practically feel it.

He debated leaving the door unlocked out of spite – even going so far as to entertain the idea of heading back inside and finishing the job he'd set out to do – but people were starting to wake up and the chances of getting caught were rising with them.

He locked the door and headed for the stairs – he still had some frustration to work through.

* * *

Mick lay in his freezer, staring sightlessly at the glass above him, his thoughts racing, his body tingling.

There was something different going on with him – a weird feeling he chalked up to having lived and died for the second time around on both counts – but there was something else there too.

Memories had chosen tonight to assault him – dancing visions of the past that was far better forgotten.

Coraline – several Lifetime movies in and of herself.

Josef, the second turning, Beth…

Josh dying, Mick not saving him, the guilt he still felt and the knowledge that being a vampire was not nearly as bad as he'd led himself to believe.

It made it so he could take care of Beth.

It also stood between them, a steady reminder of their different worlds.

She was alive – he wasn't.

She would age – he wouldn't.

She could have kids and he…

He'd never have children.

He'd mentioned the possibility of being a father to Josef and he hadn't been preoccupied enough to miss the look of wistful longing in Josef's eyes.

_Kids, _he found himself thinking.

Gods little miracles, forever denied to Gods big nightmares.

He couldn't produce children but Beth – she still had the option of being someone's mother.

A little blue-eyed girl named Elliot. Or maybe a little blue-eyed boy with the same name.

_Elliot Joss_, he decided with a bittersweet smile. She would be the type to name her children after a former lover, a living memoriam to the fallen.

Idly Mick wondered who their father would be and he gasped – actually gasped – at the sudden influx of pain in his chest.

"Geezus," he breathed, pushing up against the glass and sitting upright with a gasp, breathing harshly as he struggled with the stabbing emotional pain the thought brought.

Having a child didn't necessarily mean getting married. Things were different now than from the way they'd been when Mick was younger.

She could get donor sperm if she wanted a kid – pick a winner in the genetic lottery to produce a truly extraordinary child.

_Yeah, _Mick thought darkly to himself, _and I can be that crazy uncle, you know, the one who never ages and sometimes sleeps in the same bed as Mommy?_

_Geezus._

The pain was back and there really wasn't much Mick could do in response except ride it out.

"I can have your lab ready by tonight," Josef stated tersely once Coraline finished.

* * *

"Josef," she started but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"Is there any way, you think, that you can make it permanent?" Thoughts traveled through his head too fast for him to fully comprehend but an idea was forming and behind that idea lay a hope that he'd thought he locked away in his own version of Pandora's box, locking it down to the bottom so it would stop killing him everytime he turned around.

"I don't know," Coraline replied slowly, gaze shifting over to where Luc sat, watching Josef, face expressionless.

"It doesn't need to be permanent," Luc stated quietly, directing the statement more at Coraline than at Josef, which was good because it didn't appear like Josef was paying attention to either of them anymore.

"It'll be ready," Josef promised again, getting to his feet and heading for the door.

"Josef," Coraline called after him, swallowing as he turned around because – God – she was trying to kick the habit but it was so goddamn _hard._

"How is he?"

Josef studied Coraline for a moment, taking stock of the pallor of her skin, the lines on her face and the exhaustion that seemed to have settled itself on her shoulders like the weight of the world.

"Fine," he stated finally, eyes narrowed slightly in warning. "Happy."

Coraline was quiet for a moment as she mulled this over and Josef took advantage of the silence to slip out the door.

"Good," she decided at long last, letting her breath out in a sigh as she let her feet fall to the floor with a pained wince.

"Liar," Luc murmured, gently picking her up from the chair and carrying her back to her bedroom.

She didn't say anything in reply to that – there was really no arguing with the truth.

**A/N: **General heads up right here and now - I have eight chapters of this fic (which I started in a migrane-drug induced haze) finished. And that's it. I want to finish this fic but for the next month or two I will have no time. At all. I'm really truly sorry and I do hope I can surprise you sooner than that. As it stands, I'm giving you everything I have right now. I hope it's enough.


	7. Frozen Motion

"Is it time?" Lance asked impatiently, fingers tapping against the arm of the chair as he waited for Charles to finish eating.

"Soon," Charles replied, retracting his fangs from the girl he'd been feeding off of, licking the wound carefully and watching with a faint smile as the holes sealed. A snap of his fingers and two of his drones appeared to carry the girl back to her room where she'd sleep it off.

"Who?" Lance demanded, twisting his head slightly to narrow his eyes at Charles.

"It hasn't been decided yet," Charles replied, reaching for a handkerchief and wiping the blood from his lips before reaching for a glass of wine.

"How will we know?" Lance's fingers finished their tapping, his foot taking up the rhythm instead.

"I have people watching," was Charles reply. "They know the signs."

_The signs._

Lance tilted his head back, a faint growl tickling the back of his throat.

"I hate this," he snarled up at the ceiling. "This waiting. It's practically _killing _me."

Charles shook his head, sighing with a fond smile at the familiar puns.

"Soon enough, brother," Charles promised, reaching beyond the wine and grabbing a bottle he was certain would catch Lance's attention.

Sure enough, once he caught sight of the familiar red glass Lance's head came forward, his gaze pure predator as he stared at the bottle.

"Is it time?" There was a plain note of eagerness to Lance's words as he practically panted with excitement. Charles uncorked the bottle, carefully pouring two small teaspoons of the liquid into two wine glasses. Carefully putting the cork back, he set the bottle aside and reached for a spoon, carefully stirring the wine and the new liquid together before setting the spoon aside and turning to face Lance, offering him one of the glasses.

Lance practically snatched the glass, staring at the liquid with one bright blue eye before he raised his gaze to meet Charles, his lips turned up in a violent smile.

"To our future," he offered as a toast, lifting his glass and waiting for Charles to follow.

"To our destiny," Charles replied, lifting his own glass to return the greeting.

Swallowing the liquid nirvana, Charles felt its familiar burn work its way through his system, felt the pain as it hit. Vaguely he could hear Lance's pained moan, but it was faint, like a barely perceptible echo. He lost himself to that sweet pain, sighing pleasantly.

_Soon, _he whispered to himself.

_Very soon._

_

* * *

_

"You Talbot?"

"You Greers?"

_This is crazy, _Ben thought to himself as he stared coolly at the grizzled man who'd taken the seat across from him.

It was like a scene out of some bad horror film – local lawyer meets with vampire hunter in a dark bar at midnight. The only thing missing was an actual vampire but Ben's gaze swept the bar uneasily, not sure if that was really the truth.

"We're clear," Greers stated, drawing his attention back to the other man.

"How do you know?" Ben asked, voice sharp despite the very real fear that had become his constant companion these last couple of weeks.

"This bar belongs to my brother-in-law," Greers replied. "Nothing gets past that front door unless we let it."

"You can keep them out?" Ben was surprised and curious, wondering then if some of the legends about vampires were actually true. He knew the sunlight myths were just that – myths.

"We have out ways," Greers replied. "Now tell me about your problem."

"It's not really a problem," Ben hazarded carefully and it was true to an extent – he honestly didn't think half the names on the list were any threat. But there was one name…

"They're always a problem," Greers was saying. "Like rats, they spread if you don't exterminate them as soon as you find one."

"I didn't say anything about killing anyone," Ben started, surprised by the sharp note of censure in his words. Greers eyes narrowed and Ben became aware of several other patrons giving him unfriendly looks from various positions around the room.

"Give us a name," Greers insisted. "And we'll take care of your problem."

Ben knew better than to insist that they weren't a problem. He could feel the danger surrounding him and he found it ironic – he'd stood in a room with vampires before and he hadn't felt nearly as much fear as he did now in a room full of humans.

His mind raced, searching for a solution to this problem and a story rose in the back of his mind. He remembered an explosion several weeks ago at a local highrise. The explosion was news in and of itself but the target was even more interesting to note.

"Josef," he stated finally. "Josef Kostan."

* * *

"Isn't it a little early for you to be out and about?" Josef questioned, pouring a drink as he watched Mick stare mindlessly off into space.

"Hmm?" Mick replied, glancing up at Josef, blinking his eyes once before refocusing. "Did you say something?"

Josef narrowed his eyes at Mick as he walked around the wet bar to hand the other vampire his drink.

"You've been staring at nothing for the past ten minutes. What gives?" Joseph took a sip of his drink, eyebrow raised. "Problems with the missus?"

"We're not married," Mick snapped back, startling Josef with the vehemence of his words.

"Whoa, easy there, Tiger. I was just saying." Josef studied his friend closely for a moment, his mind racing with what he knew and what he suspected.

"How are things with Beth?" He finally asked, deciding to go with the most direct question.

"Fine," Mick replied, shifting slightly, a smile forming at the edges of his mouth. "Great, actually. I've never felt so…"

"Alive?" Josef hazarded, expression carefully neutral.

"At peace," Mick replied, shaking his head before he'd even finished the sentence. "No, not at peace. But happy."

"Happy's good," Josef murmured. "I like happy. So why aren't you?"

"I am," Mick replied, giving his friend a puzzled look. "Didn't I just say I was?"

"I could say I was Mary flippin' Poppins," Josef replied bluntly. "That doesn't make it true. What's up?"

"I've been thinking," Mick replied, smiling at Josef's joke but it was tight and without humor. He leaned forward, studying the contents of his glass like they somehow contained all the answers to the universe.

"About?" Josef prompted when the silence dragged on.

"Life," Mick replied. "And death."

Josef wasn't certain what would be the best thing to say in a moment like this, so he kept his silence.

"Beth is great," Mick continued on, glancing up at Josef, surprising the other vampire with the level of pain in his eyes. "I mean, she's really great and I love her so much but…"

"But you're dead and she's alive," Josef finished quietly. "That can be remedied easily enough."

"I'm not going to kill her," Mick snapped, his anger filling the room with a hot pepper smell that had Josef holding up his hands in the universal placating gesture.

"Whoa, easy man. I'm just saying – you have options."

"No, I don't," Mick replied, leaning back, his angry gaze jerking to stare moodily out the window. "Beth doesn't want it and I'm not going to force it on her."

_Like Coraline had._

Josef shifted uncomfortably, the thought floating in the air around the two of them.

"She can change her mind," Josef stated finally. "It happens. That's the beauty about being human. People get scared of death."

"And they should be," Mick murmured grimly.

"This isn't dying," Josef stated, fingers pointing between Mick and himself. "This is a different kind of living but we aren't dead. Dead is six feet under pushing up daisies and singing hallelujah's with the heavenly chorus."

Mick arched an eyebrow and Josef tilted his head to the side in response.

"Okay, or Highway to Hell, you know, whatever floats your boat. The point is, we're alive, Mick. It's just a different kind of living."

"We're stuck," Mick replied, swirling the liquid in his cup. "Frozen in motion."

"It's not a bad place to be," Josef stated quietly. "Eternity's not so bad – just wait until you hit the big one zero zero and you'll get it."

Mick gave Josef a look, one that made it abundantly clear he wasn't buying anything the other man was selling, which was okay – not even Josef believed half of what he was saying.

"There's still a chance," he finally stated, returning back to the original subject.

"Not for me," Mick replied, setting the glass down and rising to his feet. "See you later?"

"Later," Josef agreed, watching his friend leave, glass dangling from his fingertips.

He cared for Mick – genuinely loved the other man like a brother. Changing him that second time…

He'd expected Mick to hate him for taking away his precious humanity, but the other man had done something even worse – he'd thanked him.

Sitting there, Josef stared at the door and wondered…

"Would you thank me if I did it again?"

* * *

Beth flipped a page in the file in front of her, fighting a sigh. She was doing research for a legal brief and it was slow, slow going.

Interesting, undoubtedly, but it took forever to get through anything.

"What I wouldn't give for a vampires visual comprehension," she murmured quietly to herself.

"Excuse me?" Beth let out a startled yelp, jerking around, hand pressed against her heart as she stared wide eyed at the man behind her.

"You scared the hell out of me," she snapped, glaring at the man. "Make some noise, next time!"

"Sorry," the man apologized, shrinking back away from her, coffee cup in hand as he slunk down another aisle and away from her.

"Geezus," she mumbled to herself, reaching for her own cup of coffee as she flipped another page and grimacing after she took a sip.

"Disgusting," she stated, spitting the sip back into the cup and swallowing compulsively to try and get the taste out of her mouth as she tossed the rest of her cup in a nearby trash can.

"How's it going?"

Beth screamed, heart beat racing as she whirled around once more to glare.

"I told you – " She started only to cut herself off as she recognized the man standing behind her.

"Talbot?" She frowned at him, cocking her head to the side as she took in his half-done tie, wrinkled shirt, and general disheveled appearance. "What the hell happened to you?"

"We need to talk," Talbot replied, eyes bright with some sort of fevered need.

"O-kay," Beth elongated the word as she struggled to come up with a plan. Her reporters instincts were screaming at her, telling her something was really off, and she was in no hurry to dismiss them. "Where?"

"Is your boyfriend home?" Talbot's question surprised Beth for so many reasons she couldn't do anything but blink at him for a long moment. "Well, is he?"

"I can give him a call," Beth replied after a moment, reaching into her purse for her cell phone. "What's this about, anyways?"

"Not here," Talbot stated, reaching out and grabbing her arm, starting to tug her away.

"Hey!" Beth protested, jerking her elbow from his grip and glaring at him. "I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell me what's going on."

"I can't tell you here," Talbot replied, jaw clenching and unclenching and he watched her with no small amount of frustration. "Just call your boyfriend and tell him to meet us at his place."

"He's going to want to know what's going on," Beth warned as she hit the speed dial on her phone to call Mick.

"He'll know soon enough," Talbot promised, the grimness of his tone and his expression causing Beth's heart to kick her in the ribs in genuine apprehension.

"Beth?" Mick picked up the other end of the line. "What's wrong?"

"It's Talbot," Beth replied without preamble, watching the other man warily as she talked. "He wants to meet with you."

Mick was silent for a long moment before he finally spoke.

"When and where?"


	8. Monsters

Skye let her breath out in a sigh, pink strands of hair shifting with the sudden gust before settling back against her face.

"Your shot," the vampire across from her stated, leaning forward as he watched her with predatory eyes, waiting for her to make her move.

_Asshole, _she thought pessimistically to herself as she carefully lined up her first shot, stroking effortlessly and pretty much owning the game from that moment onwards.

"Bitch," was his only comment after that as she collected her earnings.

"Fuck off," she replied, counting the money before shoving it in her back pocket and tossing her pool cue to a nearby waiting player.

"I'm out," she informed her company for the night. "See you guys later."

"Anything wrong?" Ronnie, the bartender, asked as he cleaned a glass, watching her with a calm face but tense shoulders.

"Nothing you can help me with," she replied with a wane smile, patting him on the shoulder as she set the money down to pay for the one drink she'd had that evening. "See you around."

"Stay safe, girly," Ronnie nodded his good-bye and she tossed him a wave over her shoulder as she pushed past the crowd and out the door.

The night air was full of scents – a heady combination of humanity and smog – but the one scent she wanted more than anything was still absent.

"Where the fuck are you?" She mumbled to herself, unable to shake her sense of unease.

She shivered, shoving her hands in her pockets, and wished she felt the cold because then at least there'd be a real explanation for the cold feeling she got every time she left the apartment.

"Skye-blue, baby, what's shaking?"

"Go away, Cale," Skye murmured, eyeing the City Leaders main lackeys with annoyance. "I'm not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood anymore," Cale pouted, hopping down from the fire escape he'd been posing on to land gracefully next to her. "Why is that?"

"You know why," Skye replied, walking forward, Cale easily dogging her steps despite her brisk pace.

"Have you heard from the man lately?"

"No. But it's only been a few days."

A few days, a few hours…even a minute without him was horrible.

"You okay?" Cale lost some of his cockiness as he caught sight of the genuine unease crossing Skye's face.

"Fine," she replied but she didn't sound very convincing even to her own ears. "Just missing him."

"Uh, huh." Cale played the brainless smart-mouth to a T, but he was far from stupid. "So you won't mind housing a poor vampire for the day?"

"Poor? You?" Skye snorted at him, eyes momentarily filled with amusement and a very real hint of gratefulness. "Please."

"Okay, okay. The Big Guy's asked for a night off from my random affronts upon the English language and I figure who better to hang with than my favorite girl?" Cale gave her shoulders a hug for emphasis and she rolled her eyes and pushed him away but it was with hardly any strength.

"You can sleep in the fridge," Skye told him, turning the corner that led to her apartment.

"Ah, come on, Baby Blue! Is that anyway to treat a guest?"

"Take it or leave it," Skye shot right back and Cale smiled at her as he shook his head.

"Cold, BB. Real cold."

"Exactly," Skye grinned, showing her incisors, and Cale laughed, slinging his arm over her shoulders once more and walking her home.

_Just like in the movies, _he thought, his eyes scanning their surroundings with absolutely no humor despite his smile.

Somebody was out, stalking Skye. Cale would stick close tonight because Skye was a friend whom he genuinely liked and cared for, but come the night, he was gonna have to go straight to the Big Guy and give him the SITREP.

Something bad was hanging in the city tonight and it was making even the monsters uneasy.

* * *

Something was wrong.

"Gregor," he greeted the City Leader briskly as he leaned against the wall outside Coraline's new lab.

"Jean-Luc," the other vampire greeted patiently. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your phone call?"

"Is Skye alright?"

"Last I checked Skye was fine. Is there any reason for you to be concerned that she might not be?"

Luc was silent for a moment, wrestling with familial loyalty – loyalty that had been forced upon him since birth – and the loyalty of the ones he chose to associate with.

"Be cautious," he finally stated, the closest he could get to an obvious warning without giving anything away that might get somebody killed.

"Anything in particular I should be cautious for?" Gregor's voice never rose in inflection but Luc knew the other vampire well enough to pick up on what was unspoken and unvoiced in that question.

"Family matters," Luc replied and Gregor made a sympathetic noise on the other end of the line.

"Horrid things," he stated almost conversationally. "Always mucking things up."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Luc knew Gregor would be making a face on the other end – a delicate scrunching of his features – a distasteful reaction to Luc's distasteful slang.

"I'll keep on eye on Miss Skye," Gregor promised, bringing their brief conversation to a close. "When should I expect your return?"

"I don't know." Luc replied, sparing a glance behind him to the door. "Soon."

"Soon, my friend," Gregor murmured on a faint laugh, "can be an eternity for ones as old as us."

"Some things take an eternity to make," Luc murmured in reply. "Good bye, old friend. Be well."

"And you as well," Gregor murmured, ending their connection but not Luc's unease. Even with the other vampires promise of protection Luc didn't think anything could help with the pang of unease in his chest except for having Skye with him, safe and whole and in his sight.

* * *

"Magic," Marcel murmured, sitting on the roof top and watching the bustling business below. "How profane."

He chuckled at his own joke, but his eyes were unamused as they watched the girl below work.

She infuriated him – he went to kill her and ended up watching her sleep. He came to torment her and ended up on a rooftop because of her cursed magic.

It was a teasing reminder that unlike his usual prey she had the power to keep him away and she wasn't afraid to use it.

Almost as if she could tell he was thinking of her, she glanced up then, a crooked dark little smile tilting the corner of her lips upward.

"Little minx," Marcel murmured and he was surprised and alarmed to hear a note of genuine affection in the words.

"It's just a game," he reminded himself out loud.

"Just a game," he murmured again, rising to his feet and sparing one last glance over his shoulder at the girl below. She met his eyes, holding them for one long moment – an eternity – before breaking the gaze and turning her attention back to the customer in front of her.

_Not a game, _Marcel's mind whispered as he jumped from the second story roof to land on the ground below.

It wasn't something he cared to contemplate – if it wasn't play than it was a real and reality was not something he could handle – not like this.

"A death," he decided, sticking his hands in his pockets as he swaggered down the street, eyes sharpening as the predator in him rose to the surface. "A good death and I'll be right as rain."

He raised his nose to scent the breeze and within moments he was on the hunt.

But not even blood could quench the thirst that had suddenly arisen within him.

* * *

"Explain." Mick hovered protectively in front of Beth, standing while the two humans sat.

"You remember the Monaghan case?"

It was a question and a statement all in one, a morbid reminder of everything that Mick had been thinking about for the past two days and he found himself instinctively inching closer to Beth.

"I remember," he stated, voice tight. "What does that have to do with anything? Did you find the guy who did it?"

"Cut the bull," Talbot snapped, eyes flashing at he glared up at Mick. "You and I both know exactly who did it."

"Do we?" Mick cocked his head to the side, watching the other man closely.

Talbot was more than just nervous – he looked absolutely terrified. Which didn't make sense – Josef had quietly ordered the vampires who hung around City Hall to cut the ADA a wide birth.

"Did something happen to you?" Beth asked, poking her head around Mick to watch Talbot with narrow eyed suspicion. "Did somebody threaten you?"

Her gaze rose to connect with Mick's, asking a silent question which he shook his head at. Josef's orders were always followed – the vampire community knew better than to disobey.

"Somebody sent me a list," Talbot stated on it. "And on this list was five hundred and three names – exactly five hundred and three – and a note stating that this list was a complete directory of all the vampires in the Los Angeles area."

Dead silence followed that statement and Mick felt his heart beat kick.

"Vampires?" He forced a laugh, Beth giving him a concerned look before following his lead. "Sounds like you have a crazy person sending you mail."

"That's what I thought," Talbot stated but he wasn't even trying to feign amusement. "Until I did some research."

Talbot's gaze rose and fixated on Mick, wide and unwavering. "You're on the list."

"Really? Me, a vampire?" Mick laughed again, but it faded until Talbot's steady stare.

"I did some research," Talbot repeated. "You should really sanitize your past files."

"I should," Mick agreed, unable to misdirect anymore but unwilling to make any statements out loud. This could be a trick but the truth was Mick didn't hear any tape, any high-pitched whine of a recorder or bug. All he could hear was Beth's heartbeat and Talbots, the two beating faster than normal for two very different reasons.

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?" Mick asked when Talbot fell silent once more.

"No," Talbot shook his head, eyes on Mick's face. "There was another name on the list that I found really interesting."

"Josef," Mick stated flatly and Talbot nodded.

"I remembered that news report from a while back – the one about the office building blowing up with him inside. And then he miraculously reappears, unharmed, a few days later." Talbot swallowed and it was a nervous reaction that had Mick's eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

"Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Mick asked.

"Are you really immortal?"

"No," Mick answered. "We can still die it just takes a lot more to kill us. Why? You looking to start a monster hunting business on the side?"

Mick's attempt had humor didn't even register with the pale, shock ridden man.

"There are some hunters in town," Talbot stated without preamble. "And I didn't know who they were and I just wanted some answers but they wouldn't let me go until I gave them a name…"

"And you gave them Mick's?" Beth's voice was practically yell as she jumped to her feet, rage covering her face at the very thought of the possibility.

"No!" Talbot held up his hands in front of him, waiting until he knew she wasn't going to attack him to raise them and tug at his hair, his gaze meeting Mick's, genuine regret in their depths.

"I gave them Josef's."


End file.
